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“Yes, it sounds like it. And what about Gabriel?”
“What about him?”
I sensed a prickliness here, a defensive reaction that told me this was an avenue worth exploring.
“Well, I wonder how he fit into this dynamic. Presumably you knew him quite well?” “Not really.”
“No?”
“No.” Jean-Felix hesitated a second. “Gabriel didn’t take time to know me. He was very ... caught up in himself.”
“Sounds like you didn’t like him.”
“I didn’t particularly. I don’t think he liked me. In fact, I know he didn’t.”
“Why was that?”
“I have no idea.”
“Do you think perhaps he was jealous? Of your relationship with Alicia?”
Jean-Felix sipped his coffee and nodded. “Yeah, yes. Possibly.”
“He saw you as a threat, perhaps?”
“You tell me. Sounds like you have all the answers.”
I took the hint. I didn’t push it any further. Instead I tried a different approach. “You saw Alicia a
few days before the murder, I believe?”
“Yes. I went to the house to see her.”
“Can you tell me a little about that?”
“Well, she had an exhibition coming up, and she was behind with her work. She was rightfully
concerned.”
“You hadn’t seen any of the new work?”
“No. She’d been putting me off for ages. I thought I’d better check on her. I expected she’d be in
the studio at the end of the garden. But she wasn’t.” “No?”
“No, I found her in the house.”
“How did you get in?”
Jean-Felix looked surprised by the question. “What?” I could tell he was making some quick
mental evaluation. Then he nodded. “Oh, I see what you mean. Well, there was a gate that led from the street to the back garden. It was usually unlocked. And from the garden I went into the kitchen through the back door. Which was also unlocked.” He smiled. “You know, you sound more like a detective than a psychiatrist.”
“I’m a psychotherapist.”
“Is there a difference?”
“I’m just trying to understand Alicia’s mental state. How did you experience her mood?” Jean-Felix shrugged. “She seemed fine. A little stressed about work.”
“Is that all?”
“She didn’t look like she was going to shoot her husband in a few days, if that’s what you mean.
She seemed—fine.” He drained his coffee and hesitated as a thought struck him. “Would you like to see some of her paintings?” Without waiting for a reply, Jean-Felix got up and walked to the door,